Q and A
by TheLostMaximoff
Summary: In a town as corrupt as Hub City, who would bother to murder the mayor? The Question intends to find out while Huntress intends to make sure he doesn't get killed. QuestionxHuntress fic.
1. Pulp

Q and A

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I guess you could say I'm flexing my comic book muscles with this one. Either that or I've read too much of the 80's Question series. R/R.

He always wondered why he did this. He asked himself the same questions over and over again every time he put on his mask. Questions were Vic Sage's life, the word "why" becoming the most important word in the English language for him. Yet the Question never stopped to ask these questions about himself. There was a paradox there and paradoxes always annoyed him.

"You seem different tonight." The Question turned his faceless gaze towards Aristotle Rodor, his longtime friend and confidant. Question had known Tot for many years and yet sometimes he felt as if he didn't know the man at all.

"Just thinking, Tot," replied Question, his head moving to look out the window of the moving car both men were currently occupying, "Always thinking."

"Tell me something I'm not aware of," said Tot as he stopped the car, "You're sure this is the right place?"

"I'm never really sure about anything," replied Question as he got out of the car and tipped his hat to his friend, "I've been told it makes life interesting." Tot rolled his eyes and drove on into the night, leaving the Question alone with his thoughts as was often the case. Word on the street was that Rupert Thorne was looking to extend his criminal network by establishing connections in Hub City. Question knew Thorne's presence in his city would cause a substantial amount of problems. Hub City had enough issues concerning corruption without someone from the outside coming in and making things worse. While there were large numbers of corrupt public officials in Hub City, there wasn't a lot of mob presence and certainly none with the power that Thorne carried.

"Still, what little mob presence there is won't be happy about Thorne moving in," said Question to himself, finishing his thoughts aloud as he often did. He was told by some informants that Thorne was attempting to smuggle illegal arms into Hub City tonight and it was this information that brought him to the dilapidated warehouse currently in front of him.

Question moved around to the back of the building, carefully studying it while making sure to remain hidden from anyone who might also be lurking around. He spotted a broken window and proceeded to climb on top of a pile of crates in order to crawl through it. He muttered to himself about the warehouse's state of disrepair mirroring the country's current economic woes before quietly and quickly crawling through the broken window. He found himself crouching on a catwalk that ran along the inner perimeter of the warehouse.

"When the hell are they gonna get here with the truck?" Question stayed low to the floor and attempted to creep along the catwalk as quietly as he could. He recognized the voice that was coming from below as one of the local thugs. Apparently, the current venture was a joint endeavor between Thorne's crew and some of Hub City's goons. It seemed as if at least someone in his town was willing to play ball with Thorne.

"Speak o' the devil," said another thug as a truck pulled up to the warehouse and the giant door began to rise into the ceiling in order to greet it. The man driving the truck backed it through the opening and more men came out of the truck through the rear exit. Question watched the men exchange looks with one another, their loyalties clearly evident. Nevertheless, they seemed intent on working together if for no other reason than to satisfy their employers. Question knew he needed to get off of the catwalk and get down to the floor so he could start dispatching with the men but he remained still for a few more seconds, his always observant mind cataloging who were the likely leaders that he could pump for information once the fight was over.

"Let's get this over with," said one of the new men, "Haulin' this crap here was difficult enough." The locals gave various grunts and nods to show that they agreed with the necessity for speed. They began bringing out crates of different shapes and sizes from the truck. No sooner had they begun their task than they heard a whirring, whining noise that drew closer and closer to their current location.

"The hell is that?" asked one of the thugs as he noticed the noise. The other men looked up from their work just as a motorcycle suddenly sped into the warehouse, the rider's arm shooting out and connecting with the first thug it could find.

"Batman!" shouted one of the thugs, "It's the freakin' Bat!" The purple-clad figure snarled a curse under her breath as she turned her cycle around and killed its engine. One of the thugs attempted to attack her but she flipped off her helmet and smacked him across the jaw with it.

"Next one of you assholes to call me 'Batman' gets one of these through your skull," assured Huntress as she pointed her crossbow at the remaining men, getting off her cycle and kicking the downed thug in the jaw.

"Aw hell, not her," said one of the Gotham thugs as he attempted to make a run for it, "She's worse than Batman."

"Damn right I am," assured Huntress as she fired her crossbow, the bolt sinking into the back of the thug's shoulder and taking him to the ground. The rest of the men ran to take her on. The first one in line came at Huntress with a crowbar. He swiped at her and managed to hook his weapon on the curved part of her crossbow. This action soon proved to be a foolish one as Huntress quickly flicked the weapon out of the thug's hand and then punched him in the face. Huntress clubbed the man in the leg with the curved back of the crowbar and turned, firing her crossbow and watching the bolt connect with a man's gun. Another of the thugs took a swing at her but she ducked it. Huntress hooked the curved end of the crowbar around the man's neck and yanked him towards her as her knee rammed into his stomach before hitting him in the back of the head with the metal weapon.

"A pleasant surprise," mumbled Question as he scampered across the catwalk and down a set of metal stairs while everyone was distracted by Huntress. Huntress, meanwhile, continued dispatching the rest of the men. She flung the crowbar at a thug running towards her, the weapon hitting the man in the legs and tripping him up before he could reach her. Huntress ran towards him, stepping on his back with her boots before she hit a front handspring and slammed both feet into a thug's face. The rest of the thugs got the brilliant idea to back away and open fire with their guns. Huntress quickly scrambled towards a stack of crates and dived behind them, using them for cover.

"I didn't figure you wanted to handle these guys all by yourself," said Huntress as she saw Question join her, "I tracked these scumbags all the way from Gotham to here. They're working for a guy named . . ."

"I know," replied the Question succinctly.

"Sure, of course you do," said Huntress sarcastically as she noticed a fuse box on the side of a wall, "Hang on a sec." Huntress fired her crossbow at the box, the arrow sinking into the apparatus and damaging it enough for the lights in the warehouse to suddenly flicker off. Question felt Huntress move away from him and out into the open to finish off the rest of the men. He heard the dull throb of punches and kicks being thrown as well as the sickening crack of breaking bones. He stepped out into the open and looked around in an attempt to find her. Question squinted under his mask as lights suddenly sliced through the darkness.

"Never knew you were the kind who liked to watch," said Huntress, her elegant frame leaning over her motorcycle, its lights on to provide illumination.

"You got all of them?" asked Question.

"Of course," assured Huntress as she sat sideways on her bike, crossing her slender legs as she smiled at Question, "I may not be as thorough as you but I get results."

"I never doubted that," said Question, "We needed some of them conscious. Someone here in Hub City is trying to form an alliance with Thorne and I'd like to know who it is."

"I thought you knew everything," replied Huntress teasingly, "You and the cops here can question these goons all you want to when they wake up in their hospital beds."

"Doubtful," admitted Question, "I don't think there are enough good cops in this town to care."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing I told Gordon about this little operation," said Huntress, "He'll talk to the cops here and make sure these people get the justice they deserve."

"Where's Batman tonight?" asked Question.

"Not here and you should be grateful," said Huntress as she hopped off her bike and approached Question, "Besides, don't I look better than him?"

"No argument there," admitted Question as his eyes traversed Huntress's body, "A lot better."

"Your place, ten minutes," said Huntress, "We seem to have a free evening and I did come all this way. I think I deserve something for my trouble."

"I can't, Helena," said Question, "I have an appointment I need to keep."

"Twenty minutes then," decided Huntress, "It'll give me time to slip into something . . . more comfortable."

"We'll do something," relented Question, "It just won't be what you're insinuating."

"We'll see," replied Huntress with a smirk, "I can be very persuasive."

"Thirty minutes," stated Question as he turned away from her and moved to exit the warehouse. Huntress grabbed him by his tie and yanked him into a hot, passionate kiss that he felt every bit of even through his mask.

"Twenty," reiterated Huntress as she broke off the kiss, "Not a minute later."

"Fine then," agreed Question, "Twenty minutes."

XXXXX

Some questions were simple, so simple that the answers came as easily to Victor Sage as breathing. These weren't the questions he was interested in asking. The questions that haunted the Question were the ones that weren't so simple to answer. These were the ones that kept him up at night, forcing him to lie on his back and stare into the darkness of his apartment or sit in a desk chair for hours on end as his eyes ached from the glare of a computer screen. Some questions didn't have easy answers and try as hard as he might Victor Sage couldn't find their answers. Most of those unanswerable questions revolved around a woman, a woman named Myra Fermin.

"I almost thought you weren't going to show," admitted Myra as she saw Question standing in the living room of her house, "I wish you would learn to use a doorbell."

"Too much noise," replied Question as he looked at the mayor's wife, "The bust went well. A friend from Gotham arrived and told me that Gordon's been notified so you'll have some extra help when you haul the thugs in."

"You act as if I run the city," said Myra, pulling her robe tighter around her body, "Close that window before you freeze me." Question did as he was told.

"You _do_ run the city," reminded Question. It wasn't a secret in Hub City that Mayor Wesley Fermin was a drunk who often times spent the evenings passed out on his desk in his office. At first, a lot of very interested parties took over the operations of Hub City by weaseling their way close to the alcoholic mayor and playing him for a fool. Question had managed to clean most of them out but that left no one in charge until Myra secretly stepped in. Question admired Myra because she seemed to be one of the few decent people still living in the wretched, miserable city he called home. It also didn't hurt that she and Victor Sage once had a relationship. Unfortunately, that was a lifetime ago for him and for her.

"Only you and a few others know that," reminded Myra, "I'll have someone notify the police that Gordon's sending someone down here. I assume that Victor Sage will run a piece about it on the morning news."

"Yes, he will," assured Question, keeping his identity secret from Myra just as he had always done.

"How is he?" asked Myra, "I haven't seen him in a while."

"He's been busy," explained Question, "Keeping people informed of the truth is a tiresome job, Mrs. Fermin."

"What's the connection between you two?" asked Myra.

"We share information," answered Question, "He's honest and decent like you. I respect that." With that, the Question turned away and reopened the window he had snuck in through.

"There's an election coming up," said Myra as Question climbed out the window, "I . . . was thinking of running."

"I'd vote for you," assured Question as he looked back and tipped his hat to her, "Pleasant evening, Mrs. Fermin. I have other appointments to keep." Victor Sage never knew why he felt compelled to keep his secret from Myra, the secret that he and the Question were the same man. He told himself that he had to protect his anonymity and that he had to protect her from enemies that might want to hurt him. He didn't have to hide himself from Huntress though and she was someone he loved. So why did he have to let his faceless alter ego continually come between him and Myra? Why did it even matter to him when he was in love with Huntress while Myra was simply a close friend? Question didn't try to answer those questions at the moment. He had other important appointments to keep and he knew Huntress would be irritated if he was late.

XXXXX

Wesley Fermin sat in his chair, the upper half of his body draped over his desk as if he was some strange, decorative ornament. His wife had cleaned the bottles off his desk before she left for the evening. It was the standard arrangement. Wesley Fermin spent many nights unconscious in his office, usually sleeping off whatever amount of alcohol he had managed to consume that day. Consequently, he didn't even hear the sound of someone breaking into his office.

"Shouldn't we be worried about security?" asked one of the thugs in a nervous tone as the two men entered the office, closing the door behind them as quietly as they could although there was no need for such discretion.

"Cops don't care in this town," assured the taller, more muscular thug who was obviously the leader, "You think Gotham's bad? This place is worse." The two thugs walked around the desk, one on each side. The leader motioned that they should grab the mayor of Hub City and put him on the desk.

"You sure this will work?" asked the first thug as the two men finished their task, putting the mayor's arms at his side and spreading his legs apart.

"Boss wants the body to look like this afterwards," reminded the leader as he pulled out his gun, "He ain't gonna be able to stand on his own and I ain't holdin' him up while you shoot. Trust me, the boss will like it this way." The lead thug stood on top of the desk and quickly fired two shots into Wesley Fermin's chest. The mayor's eyes shot open and he woke up just in time to feel the first bullet tear through his heart. After that, he never needed to feel anything ever again.

XXXXX

Vic Sage mumbled sleepily as he heard his phone ring incessantly. He rubbed his eyes and then reached over the sleeping form of Helena Bertinelli to answer the infernal machine.

"Who is it?" asked Question as he rubbed his eyes again.

"It's Myra, Vic," explained Myra Fermin, "Someone shot him, Vic. Someone shot my husband!"

"Where are you?" asked Question, his mind suddenly sharp and alert.

"I'm at my house," explained Myra shakily, "The police know about this but I haven't told anyone else. I'm scared that they'll come for me next, Vic."

"I'll cover this," assured Question, "I won't let anything happen to you, Myra. Just stay where you are and I'll get on top of this. You have my word." Question hung up the phone before Myra could say anything else.

"What's the deal?" asked Huntress with a yawn.

"Someone murdered the mayor," stated Question as he hurried to get dressed.

"Wow, I thought Gotham was rough," said Huntress.


	2. FAQ

Q and A (Part Two)

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. R/R.

Question arrived at the crime scene as soon as he could. He debated about whether he should approach the matter as Vic Sage, hard-hitting news reporter, or as the Question, mysterious vigilante. Ultimately, he chose to go with his faceless alter ego. He called his boss and told the man he was working on a piece for the afternoon news. Question didn't elaborate on what the piece was about but he promised the man it was big. He knew Myra wouldn't let the media in on it just yet. What he didn't know was how the police would handle it.

"Thought you didn't come out till night," said Lieutenant Izzy O'Toole as Question ducked under the yellow tape and entered the crime scene.

"I'm not Batman," reminded Question, "Besides, in this town I can't afford to only work twelve hours a day."

"Yeah, true," admitted O'Toole, nervously fiddling with his hands due to the fact that he couldn't smoke in a crime scene, "So what the hell are you doing here? Don't tell me you had a soft spot for this guy."

"I thought you could use the help," lied Question, "What're your preliminary thoughts?"

"There's where he died," explained O'Toole as he pointed to the desk, "We checked out the wife. She said she left him passed out at his desk just like usual then she went back to the mansion. We've got security tape of her leaving and we don't have anything to show that she came back but there's a gap of a few minutes in the security footage."

"What happened?" asked Question, arching an eyebrow under his mask.

"Something or someone turned the cameras off for a few minutes," said O'Toole, "The wife could've done that but then again so could anyone with the right amount of skill or money. We got our tech people working on the security system but you know how cops are in this town."

"Not as well as you, O'Toole, but I get the picture," assured Question.

"Funny," said O'Toole, "Anyways, we figure at least one guy comes in, lays Mayor Fermin out on the desk, and then pops him twice in the chest. There're scuff marks on the desk so we think the assassin stood on it while he fired the shots."

"You haven't moved anything?" asked Question as he studied the desk.

"Just the body," replied O'Toole, "You know I can't get you in on this. You clean up our streets but you're still a vigilante."

"As I recall, O'Toole, you were the most rotten apple of all," reminded Question, "I'm not complaining about your sudden reform. I just find it interesting that you're not willing to bend the rules now when you were so willing back then."

"Security at police headquarters is pretty lax," reminded O'Toole with a grin, "Just because I can't personally hand you the case reports doesn't mean you can't get them on your own."

"Ah, true," admitted Question, "You think only one assassin?"

"At the least," replied O'Toole, "Wouldn't surprise me if there were two of 'em. I'm more interested to know who wanted Mayor Fermin dead. So far as I know, the guy didn't have any enemies that would warrant this level of aggression."

"A question worth asking," said Question as he turned to leave, his mind cataloging everything in the room and filing it away until he could compare it with the actual photos of the body. In a town as corrupt as Hub City, who would actually want the incompetent Mayor Fermin dead? Question wondered if the murder was connected to the upcoming election. If so, then the odds of Myra Fermin being involved in it frighteningly increased.

XXXXX

Rupert Thorne enjoyed thinking that he was above everything else. The attitude came with years as one of the top mob bosses in a city that was a haven for criminals. Rupert Thorne was a name that the criminals of Gotham respected and feared. Lately though, Thorne was taking it hard from some unknown denizen of the dark. He suspected it was Batman but Batman never went so far as to blow up some of his businesses. Thorne was falling on hard times and so he did what all men did when business was bad. Rupert Thorne decided on moving some of his operations to a place where the laws were looser and those that enforced them were dirtier. Thorne preferred to think of it as outsourcing.

"What the hell do I pay you people for?" asked Thorne as he looked at his men, "Apparently I pay you people to sit on your asses and do nothing, that's what I pay you for."

"Ain't our fault, boss," assured one of the thugs, "Nobody knew that chick from Gotham would show up."

"You were supposed to know," reminded Thorne, "Again, that's what I pay you to do. How are we doing on getting those men out of custody?"

"Not so good, boss," explained another of the thugs, his eyes dutifully studying the floor and his voice possessing a timid quality, "Somebody musta called Gordon 'cause he sent a bunch of guys down here to make sure things go right."

"Morons," stated Thorne as he looked at his henchmen, "I am surrounded by morons." Thorne muttered a few other words under his breath as he tried to think of what to do next.

"I can help you with that problem," assured a female voice. Thorne and his men turned to see Huntress calmly waltz into their midst, the unconscious body of the man guarding the door now lying on the floor of the room. This action only irritated Thorne even further. It was bad enough that Gotham sent their cops to ruin his plans but they apparently also sent their crime-fighters as well.

"Boys, show this lady some hospitality," ordered Thorne.

"I really tried to be nice this time," reminded Huntress as she raised her crossbow and fired to her right without even looking in that direction. The bolt sank into the hand of a thug who was about to point his gun at her. Huntress made sure he wouldn't be pointing anything at anyone for a while. Her attention no longer diverted, Huntress grabbed the other thug by the hand, kicking him in the ribs and then quickly flipping him to the ground.

"What is it you want from me?" asked Thorne.

"Information," answered Huntress as she cracked her knuckles, "Someone assassinated the mayor of Hub City. You know anything about it?"

"I've only been in town a day," reminded Thorne, "How the hell would I know anything about it?" Huntress grabbed Thorne by his suit's collar with one hand and punched him in the face with the other.

"Wrong answer," said Huntress, "You try to move your goons into this town on the same night that the mayor gets killed? Pretty suspicious if you ask me."

"You can't do this to me," said Thorne, blood starting to trickle from his mouth, "I have rights." This declaration earned him another shot in the face from Huntress.

"I'm not a cop and I'm sure as hell not Batman," reminded Huntress, "Talk!"

"I don't know," assured Thorne, blood now running from his mouth and his nose, "I didn't have anything to do with it!"

"One more time," warned Huntress as she stuck her crossbow to Thorne's forehead, "I'm going to ask one more time and you better not lie to me."

"Do you seriously think I'd run the risk of screwing up this city's political system when it already works so heavily in my favor?" asked Thorne, "Mayor Fermin was one of my assets here."

"You had him on your payroll?" asked Huntress skeptically, "Maybe he decided he didn't want to take orders anymore."

"Wesley Fermin was the definition of incompetence," said Thorne, "He was so poor at his job that I didn't have to have him on my payroll for him to be beneficial to me. I don't know who killed him but it wasn't me. If anything, I want to catch the guy as much as you do."

"Maybe that person should feel lucky if you catch them before I do," said Huntress as she drove her knee into Thorne's rather prominent stomach and then tossed him aside, "Go back to Gotham, Thorne, and this time you better stay there." Huntress walked over to the window of the penthouse, breaking it open and shooting out an arrow with a rope attached to it. She swung away from the building and made her way to the street where she stashed her motorcycle. Huntress pulled out a phone and dialed a number, the call going through an encrypted line so it couldn't be traced.

"I had a feeling he was clueless," said Question, "He didn't know anything, did he?"

"No," admitted Huntress as she gunned the engine on her bike and headed back towards Question's apartment, "I called Batgirl earlier and asked about getting us the police reports. She said she'd look into it."

"I already have Tot looking into it as well," assured Question, "I'm going to check out the mayor's home before the police tear it apart."

"Who?" asked Huntress.

"A friend," explained Question, "I'll have him get in touch with Batgirl so they can coordinate. In the meantime, I have to talk to Myra about press involvement. Sooner or later, the people will have to know what happened to their mayor."

"You're on a first-name basis with her?" asked Huntress, "You must be quite a local celebrity."

"Myra's a friend," explained Question, "I'll see what I can find at the house and then meet you at my place so we can compare notes."

"Be careful, Q," warned Huntress, "Someone wanted her husband dead. It's a good bet that they want her gone as well."

"I'm always careful," assured Question before he ended the call.

"A friend," muttered Huntress as she hung up the phone, "Better make sure you're careful in more ways than one, Q, or she won't be the only one that needs protection."

XXXXX

He wasn't going to do this with masks and questions. Victor Sage knew it would be better handling it this way, as himself and not as a faceless enigma. Yet even when he didn't wear the mask, Victor Sage was never truly himself because the identity of Victor Sage was simply another mask for him to wear, albeit a more acceptable one. At first, Victor simply thought that creating this acceptable mask would hide his rough and troubled past from prying eyes but the mask of Victor Sage had taken on a life of its own and that life was further complicated by his identity as the Question. Anonymity was his greatest weapon and yet he was such an enigma that at times he barely even knew himself at all.

"Doing a little spring cleaning?" asked Victor Sage as he stood in the open doorway and watched Myra Fermin deposit a large collection of liquor bottles into a trash bag.

"You always had a terrible sense of humor, Vic," said Myra as she put her hands on her hips and looked up at him, "Did KBEL send you to find out what the hell's going on?"

"You know me better than that, Myra," assured Vic as he came into the house, "Yes, I'll eventually have to report this but that's not why I came here. I came here to make sure you were safe."

"Feel like having a drink from one of these," muttered Myra almost to herself as she held one of the liquor bottles in her hand and stared at it, "Isn't that crazy? I mean I've seen what this stuff does to people and yet now the only thing I can do is feel like drinking it."

"You're grieving," stated Vic, "It's normal. Myra, you know we have some things that we need to talk about."

"I've already given my statement to the police," assured Myra as she threw away the liquor bottle and then sank onto the couch, "They think I killed him, don't they?"

"They're just doing their job," assured Vic, "Well, most of them are I think. Do you want to go public with this? The people of the city have a right to know."

"How the hell can you be so damn cold?" asked Myra as she glared at him, tears starting to flow from her eyes, "My husband is dead, Vic! Yeah, he had his problems but he was a good man and he never hurt me even though he was drunk all the time. He didn't deserve this!"

"A reasonable question," admitted Vic as he sat down on the couch with Myra, "I'm a reporter, Myra. Someone has to tell people the truth especially in this town."

"You can break the story," said Myra, "Your usual reputation aside, you'll probably be the only reporter in this town who will handle it respectfully. The story's yours, Vic. Do whatever you do with it."

"That's not the only thing I came here for," explained Vic, "Have the police been here? I mean actually been in the house?"

"Not yet," answered Myra, the anger starting to creep back into her voice, "You want to go through this place? What do you think you'll find, Vic, the damn smoking gun sitting on my dresser?"

"I need to know the truth," replied Vic, "Even if you didn't murder him, there might be a clue in this house as to the identity of the person that did."

"Even if I didn't murder him?" asked Myra sarcastically, "I can't believe you, Vic. I thought after what he had with each other you'd know me enough to know I could never kill anyone, let alone my own husband."

"Then at least let me try to find some proof of that," countered Vic, "It won't take more than a few minutes, Myra. I promise I won't violate anything personal."

"Wesley had an office upstairs," said Myra, wiping her eyes, "You can check whatever's in there but that's all you can check."

"Alright," agreed Vic, his insatiable lust for answers momentarily kept in check by his lingering feelings for Myra and the friendship they shared. He knew he would have to be quick as well as thorough. Myra's hospitality was already generous enough without him pushing its boundaries. He left Myra to her work and headed up the stairs and into the late Wesley Fermin's home office. He sat down at the computer just as his private cell phone rang.

"Batgirl and I got you those police reports," said Tot as Vic answered the phone, "We also had a very long, interesting chat. She's a very bright girl, perhaps too bright to be in this line of work."

"Am I going to get another lecture on my current job?" asked Vic as he powered up the computer and waited for it to load up, "I'm at Myra's right now. She's taking it a little hard."

"You still have feelings for her?" asked Tot, "Something tells me Huntress won't be pleased."

"A question that can be answered later," assured Vic as he clicked around on the computer, "Someone's been on this computer recently and I doubt it's been the mayor."

"You're dodging the question," reminded Tot.

"It can wait until later," repeated Vic as he continued poking around, "I'm checking Mayor Fermin's office email account and I'm seeing a lot of correspondence between him and what looks like someone working for Rupert Thorne."

"You believe Fermin was the one helping Thorne funnel his criminal activity into Hub City?" asked Tot skeptically, "I doubt our drunken mayor would have been capable of something so devious."

"No, I don't believe that for a second," answered Vic, "Someone wants us to believe it though and that's what matters. I'll call you later when I get back to my apartment. I need time to process a few things."

"I assume your current romantic woes will be one of the subjects," said Tot, "Perhaps I'll give Batgirl another call and see if she'd like to play a game of online chess."

"You do that," replied Vic sarcastically as he hung up the phone.

"Another of your mysterious sources?" asked Myra as she stood in the doorway.

"A friend," assured Vic as he turned towards her, "When was the last time someone used this computer?"

"I can't even remember," replied Myra after a few moments of thought, "Most of the time Wesley was too drunk to operate it so he rarely used it."

"What about the one at the office?" asked Vic, "Someone has been using his office email account to correspond with Rupert Thorne or at least one of his minions."

"What would some businessman from Gotham want with Wesley?" asked Myra. Vic bit his lip and turned back to the computer. He wanted to tell Myra that Rupert Thorne was far from the respectable businessman he enjoyed posing as but that would lead to questions that he couldn't answer.

"I'm not sure but someone in his office communicates with Thorne's network," explained Vic, "Who has the most access to your husband's computer besides you?"

"His secretary," answered Myra skeptically, "You don't seriously think she's involved in this somehow, do you?"

"Stranger questions have been asked," assured Vic as he noticed something was happening on the computer screen. Black and red pixels suddenly began appearing all over the screen, blocking out whatever information was previously on it. The pixels stopped when the screen was completely black with a giant red "A" on it.

"I didn't expect you to come snooping around, Mr. Sage," said a distorted voice that came from the computer's speaker system, "Though I have great respect for you, I'm afraid you've stumbled upon something that is much bigger than a simple dead bureaucrat. I regretfully must inform you about the explosive device I've planted in this house, the one that I'm about to ping from this computer, thus detonating it."

"Who are you?" asked Vic as he suddenly noticed the windows lock themselves automatically.

"The automated security system," explained Myra.

"He's hacked it," realized Vic as he tried to open the windows, "I'm guessing the major exits are also locked." The large letter on the screen vanished and was replaced by the number "10", which quickly turned into the number "9" and indicated a countdown sequence.

"What the hell are we going to do?" asked Myra.

"Something besides ask questions," retorted Vic as he looked around and grabbed a potted plant sitting in the corner. He quickly threw the plant at the nearest window and watched the glass shatter from the impact. Vic grabbed Myra and then hurried towards the broken window, vaulting through it and falling onto the front lawn.

"What about the . . .?" began Myra.

"Run!" shouted Vic as he pulled her away from the house. A second later, the entire building erupted into flames and a deafening explosion echoed through the air. Vic Sage threw Myra Fermin onto the lawn and stayed low to avoid any incoming shrapnel. His mind was racing with questions and he knew he wasn't going to sleep until he answered all of them.


	3. A Is A

Q and A (Part Three)

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. R/R.

"Good evening, Hub City. I am, as always, Victor Sage and I regret that I have grim news to deliver tonight. Late last night, our illustrious Mayor Wesley Fermin was murdered in his office. A failed attempt on the life of Myra Fermin was made earlier this afternoon. The keen inquisitive minds of the Hub City Police Department are handling the case but speculation abounds. Our mayor's shortcomings were no secret and one can't help but wonder if these attacks have anything to do with Mr. Rupert Thorne recently moving a good chunk of his business here from Gotham. Are these incidents his work or are they the work of some other player in the game Hub City finds itself a part of? More to the point, we should all wonder where Mrs. Fermin is right now. Though she survived the explosion of her home, no one has seen her at all."

"Damn you're good," admitted Huntress.

"You can turn that off now," reminded Question as he motioned to the TV that was playing his report on the events in Hub City.

"Maybe I like to watch you work," suggested Huntress with a grin as she turned the channel. Question turned his masked gaze to the sleeping form of Myra Fermin in his bed.

"I hope the thoughts going through your head are about the case," said Huntress as she noticed his gaze linger on Myra longer than she was comfortable with, "You know she can't stay here forever, Q. If this killer knows a lot about her, he knows you had a relationship with her in the past and that you're good friends with her in the present."

"I know," assured Question, "How did you get here, Helena?"

"Took a private plane," explained Huntress, "You wouldn't believe how much I had to beg Batman to get that to happen. His connections really creep me out sometimes. It's like he can just wave his hand and things materialize out of thin air."

"All part of the mystique," assured Question, "We need to get Myra out of Hub City until this case is over. She's obviously not safe here anymore."

"So you want to take her to Gotham?" asked Huntress skeptically, "That's an ironic twist."

"Of course I assume your loft is safe," said Question, almost to himself as he continued to mentally process all the new information.

"_My_ place?" asked Huntress, her voice starting to rise, "You can't seriously believe you're going to stash her in _my_ loft. You and Batman are Justice League buddies. Why don't you hit him up for some space? Hell, why don't you take her up to the damn Watchtower?"

"I can't risk that guy hacking into the Watchtower's computer systems," explained Question, "I have no idea how good he is and if he manages to pull it off then we'll have more problems on our hands than just keeping her alive. It'll only be for a couple of days, Helena."

"I _do_ have a secret identity here," reminded Huntress as she tapped her mask, "I mean sure I don't have a lot of loved ones who'd be in danger if my cover got blown but still it's the principle of the thing."

"Please?" asked Question, "I have to stay here to work this case and I can't do it if I'm constantly worried about Myra."

"What the hell am I all of a sudden?" asked Huntress, "I mean you seem to have no trouble concentrating without being concerned for _my_ safety."

"You can take care of yourself," reminded Question, "Helena, this isn't the time to be possessive. The life of a good woman is in danger."

"Oh spare me the guilt trip," scoffed Huntress, "I'll do this for you, Vic, but you have to do something for me."

"I'm not doing that," assured Question, knowing what Huntress wanted even before she said it.

"She deserves to know, Vic," said Huntress, "It's okay for her to possibly discover my secret but she can't know yours?"

"You know why I wear the mask, Helena," said Question.

"Oh I know why," assured Huntress, "You wear that mask to keep yourself from answering the toughest questions of all. You wear that mask to keep yourself distant from the rest of the world and you claim it's to keep your objectivity but really it's because you need something to keep yourself distracted from figuring out your feelings."

"I love you, Helena," stated Question, "Please, don't ask questions and just do this for me. Please?" Huntress sadly shook her head, smiling but not willing to let him see it.

"Only because you asked nicely," said Huntress, "You tell her though, Vic. If you respect her that much then she should know."

"One catastrophe at a time, Helena," assured Question, "One catastrophe at a time."

XXXXX

"I heard someone broke into our computer systems," said Izzy O'Toole as Question appeared in his office, "You know anything about that?"

"I've learned some questions are best left unasked," replied Question, "Am I under arrest, Lieutenant?"

"Nope," answered O'Toole as he looked back to the files on his desk, "How's your end of this going, No-Face?"

"Nowhere," replied Question as he took some of the photos off of O'Toole's desk and began studying them, "This is exactly the way you found the body?"

"We may live in Hub City but we're not idiots," reminded O'Toole, "You see something that we didn't?"

"I always do," assured Question, "Give me a marker or a pen." O'Toole passed him a pen and Question stared at the picture for a few minutes before he began drawing something on it. Izzy O'Toole watched with an arched eyebrow as Question finished drawing on the picture and then looked at it again.

"Tell me what this looks like," said Question as he handed O'Toole the picture, "Just look at the lines, not the body." Izzy took the picture and studied it. Question had drawn a line that started at the top of Wesley Fermin's head and branched off with the man's legs. Then, Question had drawn another line that connected the two shots and the blood smeared across his body. O'Toole studied the lines and the shape they made.

"It looks like an 'A'," said O'Toole after a few moments of studying it, "It's a little misshapen but with the lines you've drawn I definitely see an 'A'."

"I talked to Sage about the explosion at Mrs. Fermin's mansion," explained Question, "He was doing some investigating on Mayor Fermin's computer when someone hacked it. The bomber sent a ping from that computer to the bomb in order for it to explode."

"Where are you going with all this?" asked O'Toole.

"The screen turned black except for a giant, red 'A'," explained Question, "I don't know what that means but now we find out that the way the body was laid along with the blood smear makes another 'A'."

"Too much coincidence," admitted O'Toole, "Maybe someone read _The Scarlet Letter_ one too many times and went nuts."

"Not likely," admitted Question, "This is a calling card of some kind. This could be the work of a serial killer."

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea," admitted O'Toole, "I'll start making some calls and see if there are other cases like this."

"The letter 'A'," mumbled Question, "What does it mean?"

"I thought you were the master of answering questions," said O'Toole.

"I do my best," assured Question, "I'll research the mysterious, red 'A'. You see if you can get any hits from your system."

XXXXX

"I've never been to Gotham," said Myra Fermin, "I never did get out of town much, even when I was a reporter."

"Wouldn't have pegged you for a reporter," admitted Huntress as she and Myra exited the private plane Huntress had used to get to Hub City. She went around to the back of the plane and began to pull her bike out of the cargo hold.

"I used to work for KBEL," explained Myra, "That's how I met Vic in the first place."

"Never met the guy," replied Huntress, "What's he like?"

"He was nice," admitted Myra as Huntress handed her a helmet while the masked woman started the engine, "He was dedicated, hard-working, curious as hell about everything. I suppose he's still all those things . . . well except for maybe the 'nice' part."

"So what happened to him?" asked Huntress as Myra climbed on the bike with her.

"Wish I knew," admitted Myra as Huntress guided the bike out of the private airfield and through the streets of Gotham City, "So what's this guy without the face like? The Question?"

"Curious to the point of being a nosy ass," replied Huntress, "He's obsessive, paranoid, slightly crazy."

"So why do you stay with him?" asked Myra.

"The sex is fantastic," replied Huntress as she clicked a button on her bike to open the entrance to the underground storage facility she used to hide her equipment. Huntress drove the bike into the facility and parked it in her usual spot.

"You must have a lot of money to bankroll something like this," said Myra as Huntress walked behind a screen and changed out of her costume and back into her street clothes.

"I had a very large inheritance," assured Huntress as she emerged from behind the screen, "The keyword is 'had'." She knew she had to be careful about what she said around Myra. Huntress wasn't used to having people around that were still in the dark about her secret identity. Question was the only person she was close with although a few people in the Justice League still respected her enough to call her their friend. In all cases, those people already knew her secret so she didn't have to hide from them.

"Must've been a lot," said Myra as she followed Huntress into the elevator that would take them to her loft.

"It was enough," assured Huntress as the elevator stopped and the two women stepped into Huntress's loft, "I wouldn't start making myself too comfortable. I'm going to have to start asking you a lot of very personal questions."

"I thought Question was handling the case," said Myra as she sat down on the couch.

"I think he just wanted me gone so he could concentrate," said Huntress, "Trust me, this will probably be the most painless interrogation I've ever done so you should count yourself lucky."

"What do you want to know?" asked Myra.

"We'll start with your husband and go from there," decided Huntress as she sat down on the other end of the couch, "I have a feeling this is going to be a long day."

XXXXX

"I did some checking into your past." Megan Conner nearly jumped out of her skin as she attempted to quietly close the door to Wesley Fermin's office after entering it. She didn't expect to encounter anyone, much less the Question, when she went to start covering her tracks concerning her involvement with Rupert Thorne and his dealings in Hub City.

"What the hell are you doing here?" asked Megan.

"You were Mayor Fermin's secretary," explained Question as he leaned back in the mayor's chair and stared at the young woman, "Someone in this office has been working for Rupert Thorne. That someone wants everyone to think it was Mayor Fermin but we both know that isn't true. You were the only one who had access to his office email account."

"What about his wife?" asked Megan.

"Shifting blame only makes you look guiltier," assured Question, "As I said before, I started checking into your past. You're a Gothamite who moved here only a year ago. You once had a boyfriend who owed Thorne a large sum of money but he died in a gunfight with the police. Did the debt transfer over to you, Miss Conner? Is that the way Thorne does business?"

"There's nothing that ties my name to any of this," assured Megan, "How do you plan to prove it?"

"Ah, the eternal question," said Question, "Legally speaking, I can't prove any of my accusations. As you said, your name isn't in any of those emails but we both know Wesley Fermin had a hard time standing up let alone typing coherent sentences. I can make the police look very, very hard at you though and they'll wonder why you're here now. This place is a crime scene, Miss Conner. Did you forget that?"

"You have no idea what's really going on here," assured Megan.

"Enlighten me then," suggested Question, "You're telling me you don't work for Rupert Thorne? You're telling me you didn't plant evidence to suggest that Fermin was in connection with Thorne in order to cover your own tracks?"

"Thorne doesn't have anything to do with this, you moron," stated Megan, "I planted evidence to falsely accuse Fermin because I _want_ the police looking at Thorne and so does my real employer."

"Who do you work for?" asked Question as he suddenly stood up from his chair and moved to grab Megan before she could try to get away, "Tell me!"

"He recruited me out of college," explained Megan, "The thing with Johnny was to help me get a good cover going. I weaseled my way into Thorne's organization and I began feeding him all the information he needed. Men like Rupert Thorne are a disease that needs to be purged from society."

"Tell me his name," ordered Question, "Tell me his name!" Megan Conner suddenly stood stock still, her sky-blue eyes wide with fear. Question saw a trickle of blood ooze from the center of her forehead. His eyes quickly flicked to the window behind him and he instantly noticed the hole that shouldn't have been there. Question dropped to the floor and moved to put the mayor's desk between him and the sniper. Megan Conner's dead body dropped limply to the floor, her head turning so that her lifeless gaze stared at the Question. Question crouched behind the desk and waited to see if the sniper would take a shot at him but nothing happened. It was then that he heard Megan's cell phone ring.

"I warned her not to come back to that office," explained the voice on the other end of the line as Question answered the phone, "She was a bright girl, very dedicated to the cause."

"Who are you?" asked Question, recognizing the voice as the same garbled one that had come over the speakers of Wesley Fermin's home computer minutes before the mansion blew up.

"I see now that I'm going to have to end this little game before any more of my people die at the hands of Rupert Thorne and his goons," said the voice, almost talking to himself as if the owner didn't know the phone was even on.

"No more games," stated the Question, "Tell me who you are!"

"The man that just shot Megan Conner will be dead in one hour," assured the voice, "By sunrise tomorrow, Rupert Thorne will be dead."

"What about Myra Fermin?" asked Question, "She's a good woman that you tried to incinerate."

"Guilt by association," said the voice, "I honestly hoped you would see things the way I see them. I've read up on you, Question. I saw you as my equal but I'm wondering if you really share my philosophy. If you're interested in learning the answers to all your burning questions then I suggest you come to Gotham and find me. I'll be waiting for you."

"Helena," muttered Question to himself as the man on the other end hung up the phone, "He's going after them both."

XXXXX

"We've been over this stuff a hundred times," said Myra as she looked at Huntress, "I can't see anything that makes sense." Huntress studied the crime scene photos and the rest of the files concerning Wesley Fermin's murder. She opened the folder of information she had compiled about Rupert Thorne. Lately, someone was targeting Thorne and the mobster was starting to sweat. Huntress knew it was the reason Thorne was trying to muscle his way into Hub City and she knew there had to be a connection somewhere between Thorne's operations and Mayor Fermin's death.

"Q's always good at this crap," mumbled Huntress as she studied the list of Thorne operations that had been bombed in recent weeks, "Hang on a second." Huntress went to her desk and pulled out a map of Gotham City. She took a red marker and marked the places that had been hit.

"They aren't even in the same district," said Myra as she noticed what Huntress was doing, "They're spread out across the city."

"Yeah but they're in straight lines," reminded Huntress as she started with the first bombing and began tracing the route, "When you've been around Q as long as I have, you start getting extremely good at connecting dots."

"It makes an 'A'," said Myra as Huntress finished, "The computer screen."

"Come again?" asked Huntress.

"The person that blew up my house hacked into my husband's home computer while Vic was working on it," explained Myra, "The screen went black except for a giant, red 'A'." A round, metal canister suddenly crashed through the window. Huntress noted the red lights on it and quickly deduced what it was.

"Run!" shouted Huntress as she pulled Myra towards the elevator that would take them to her equipment storage room. It was at that moment that the bomb exploded.


	4. Cookbook

Q and A (Part Four)

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

They managed to make it into the elevator before the bomb exploded. Huntress clicked a few buttons and the elevator descended while a slab of metal sealed off the shaft so that the fire didn't reach the lower level.

"I'm getting really sick of people trying to blow me up," said Myra.

"Yeah well next time I'm sticking you in a motel room," retorted Huntress, "I really liked the setup I had. I'm guessing it was the same guy both times." Huntress cursed under her breath as she realized that she didn't have her phone with her. Now would have been an excellent time to call for backup.

"You sure this place is safe?" asked Myra as she stepped into the storage room.

"Safer than up there," assured Huntress as she moved to change into her working clothes. Her mind worked furiously to unravel the tangled knot of events that she had somehow found herself caught in. The fact that the Thorne buildings made the shape of an "A" was no mere coincidence but Huntress wasn't aware of any criminal in Gotham who used "A" as a motif.

"Huntress," said Myra. Huntress noted the nervous tone in the woman's voice. That could only mean more trouble. She barely skipped a breath as someone tore away the screen she used to conceal herself while changing. It was a lucky thing for that someone that she had finished putting on her costume.

"Boys these days are so pushy on first dates," muttered Huntress as she kicked the thug in the jaw, "You invite them over to your house and all of a sudden they want to see you naked." The first kick failed to knock the thug unconscious although it did rattle him. Huntress decided to press her luck and try for a second but this time the thug was ready for it. The man grabbed Huntress by the ankle and slung her across the floor.

"I'm afraid you'll have to forgive his manners," said a voice from behind Huntress. She felt the jolt of electricity rip through her spine and stun her long enough for something to hit her in the back of the head.

"Who are you?" asked Myra as the other thug held her to keep her from escaping.

"The essence of Anarky is surprise," replied the red-clad man, "Let's just say I'm a concerned citizen of the world who wants to do his part in helping others realize what their leaders are really up to. Any more than that would spoil the surprise."

"What do you want us to do with her?" asked the thug Huntress had kicked, motioning to the unconscious woman.

"Bring her along too," ordered Anarky, "It should further entice our faceless friend to include himself in the game we're playing."

XXXXX

"Watchtower," said Question into his com-link, "This is Question. I've got a situation."

"T here," replied Mr. Terrific, "Go ahead, Q."

"I need an emergency teleportation for one to Gotham City," explained Question, "The faster you can do it, the better."

"I know the address," assured Mr. Terrific, "Do you need backup, Q?"

"Hopefully it'll be there for me when I arrive," explained Question.

"Stand by," said Mr. Terrific. Question mumbled under his breath about scrambled molecules as he felt the teleportation sequence begin. He quickly disappeared from Hub City and reappeared on the streets of Gotham, specifically the street where Huntress lived. The first thing he noticed was that he smelled smoke. The second thing he noticed was that Huntress's loft was on fire.

"Huntress!" shouted Question as he ran towards the building, "Myra!" The entire building was rapidly going up in flames and it possibly held the two most important women in his world inside of its crumbling walls. The sound of his ringing cell phone was the only thing that stopped him from running into the burning building.

"I'm getting very tired of this game," stated Question as he answered the phone, "How did you get onto this line?"

"You shouldn't worry about either of your two favorite women," assured the mysterious voice on the other end, "We grabbed them both. As to how I'm speaking to you through this number, well, I was able to hack the encryption on the line."

"Why did you bomb the building?" asked Question.

"You should find some cover," warned the voice, "Rupert Thorne had snipers trained on your Huntress and her companion. Those snipers are still there." Question saw the flash of red out of the corner of his eye and noticed the dot settle firmly on his heart. Question ran away from the building and rolled behind a parked car. He checked the angle where the red beam was coming from.

"Where are they?" asked Question through the cell phone.

"Do you mean the two women or the snipers?" asked the voice.

"Both," replied Question.

"You should be able to deduce where the snipers are," assured the voice, "The girls, however, might take a little more time. I assume you'll figure it out eventually. In the meantime, I have other business to take care of." Question poked his head up from behind the car and began estimating the positions of the snipers. He ducked into a back alley and began climbing up the fire escape.

"Can't figure out how she does things like this," muttered Question, referring to Huntress as he got a running start and jumped across the gap between buildings. He knew he had to get to the right building quickly before the sniper got away from him. The good thing was that he had more than one sniper to choose from. Question quickly changed directions as he saw the thin, red targeting line come at him from a different angle. He jumped over another gap and tackled the sniper.

"The hell did you come from?" muttered the man as he grappled with Question.

"Thorne sent you to kill the two women in that building," explained Question, "Whose the man on the phone?"

"I don't know anything about a phone," assured the man as Question forced his arms behind his back. At times like this, Vic seriously considered carrying handcuffs with him like Batman did but he could never convince himself they were worth the trouble.

"I assume it's the same one who's been blowing up a lot of your boss's buildings" continued Question, "Does the letter 'A' mean anything to you or your boss?" Question noticed another targeting line and put the sniper between himself and the red dot. He felt the body in his grasp go limp as something hit it. Question dropped the dead weight of the body and was on the move again. He quickly climbed down the fire escape on the building and dropped onto the city streets. Vic was getting tired of being left in the dark. He wanted to know what was going on and he wanted to know where Huntress and Myra were. Vic Sage wasn't a man who enjoyed it when his questions went unanswered and he was going to find out the identity of this mystery man one way or the other.

XXXXX

"I want this guy dead," stated Rupert Thorne as he looked at his men, "I want this bomber dead, this faceless guy dead, Huntress dead, I want them all dead! Can I make this clearer?" Thorne had taken Huntress's advice and returned to Gotham. Vic Sage's insinuations had made a tense situation for him into something that was too hot for him to handle. Thorne didn't need all the extra scrutiny he was sure to get had he stayed in Hub City so he returned home for the sake of his livelihood and his health. Unfortunately, it seemed his problems followed him.

"No, boss," assured one of the men, "This faceless guy isn't the same one bombing your places, Mr. Thorne. I think he's in the dark as much as we are."

"I doubt things will stay that way," replied Thorne, "If the bomber and the faceless man start talking to one another then they could become allies against me."

"Yeah, that would be bad," agreed the goon.

"Bad is an understatement," stated Thorne, "I want all of them found and I want all of them dead. Make it happen and make it happen quickly before something else goes wrong."

"A logical plan of action," said Question as he stepped out of the shadows and revealed himself to Thorne and his men, "Though I have a proposition that might change your mind on such a course."

"Kill him," ordered Thorne as he dismissively waved his hand, "There's nothing from him that I want."

"I think my silence could go a long way," suggested Question before Thorne's men could make a move, "Both of us have a common goal in wanting to find this mystery man. You have resources and I have my reasoning skills. I think between the two of us we can come to some sort of arrangement."

"I have enough resources to do without whatever you could offer," assured Thorne.

"What does the letter 'A' mean to you?" asked Question.

"It begins the phrase 'absolutely nothing'," retorted Thorne, "Why?"

"This building's address is 111 Adams Avenue," replied Question, "The bomber promised me that you would be dead by morning. If he was going to do it, this would be the place."

"Mr. Thorne," said a voice over the intercom, "Something's going on." There was the loud sound of static over the intercom as the security guard's voice cut out.

"What was that?" asked Thorne.

"That was the sound of revolution, Mr. Thorne," said a familiar voice over the intercom, "Your new friend without the face is quite correct though I confess I hadn't expected him to be there."

"I wouldn't bother trying to escape," said Question as Thorne's men quickly rushed to the windows, "If your building has automated locks then he's already hacked them."

"State-of-the-art LexCorp security technology," assured the voice, "A gift from a contemporary, Mr. Thorne? Perhaps payment for services rendered?"

"Don't just stand there, you idiots!" shouted Thorne, "Do something!" The goons in the room quickly began fumbling over themselves in an effort to find a way out of their predicament. They could still move to another room in the building but Anarky had locked all the windows along with the major exits. Question calmly sat on the floor, assuming a lotus position and attempting to meditate.

"It helps me think," assured Question before Thorne could even ask the question that was forming in his mind, "We could attempt to find the bomb and diffuse it but searching a building of this size would take longer than we have. Jumping out the window at this height isn't really an option unless you want to accomplish his objective in a much quicker, less messy fashion."

"I'm calling the police," informed Thorne as he picked up his phone.

"He probably has the phone lines in this building jammed," explained Question, still in his meditative position, "That's what I would do if I was planning this."

"Then what do we do?" asked Thorne desperately.

"Where's your security hub?" asked Question.

"Main floor," replied Thorne. Question quickly leapt to his feet and dashed out of the room. He couldn't risk taking the elevator for fear of it also being tampered with so he began descending the stairs with frightening speed. Question was vaguely aware of the fact that Thorne and his men were following him. Apparently, he was the only one with a real plan on how they were going to live through this experience. This information didn't surprise Victor Sage in the least.

"Who the hell are you?" asked one of the security guards as Question barreled through the door.

"No time for stupid questions," replied Question as he moved the man aside and got down on the floor so he could look at the wiring, "Have you tried disabling the security system entirely?"

"He won't let us," explained the guard, "We've tried everything we know to do and we can't get anyone on the phone to help us."

"Apparently I was right about those phone lines," said Question to himself, "Hand me a screwdriver so I can pry some of the panels off. I'm going to have to shut the system off manually and when I say 'manually' it means I'm going to have to break something." One of the guards complied and passed Question a screwdriver. Question pried off some of the paneling and began ripping the wires out of the machine. The entire unit began to spark and sputter.

"Check the front door," ordered Thorne. One of the goons ran to the main doors and managed to get them open.

"It's clear!" shouted the thug.

"Everyone out now!" ordered Question. Everyone who knew what was going on quickly ran towards the door. Question attempted to get the intercom system to work in case there were still people in the building who weren't aware of the current situation.

"I wouldn't bother with that," assured Anarky over the intercom system, "I already made sure the only people in the building were Thorne's goons and, of course, Thorne himself."

"Why would you spare the lives of all the other people in this building?" asked Question.

"You're the one who's good with answering questions," reminded Anarky, "You figure it out. Do it quickly too because that building could explode at any moment." Question filed away the idea of Anarky having at least some sort of moral compass and promised himself he would come back to it later when his life wasn't in immediate danger. Question quickly ran towards the door. He stepped across the threshold when the building suddenly exploded. Question felt his body fly through the air and away from the building. He hit the pavement and rolled into the middle of the street as the entire building erupted into flames.

"What?" asked Question groggily as he tried to get up and failed at the attempt. He saw a figure clad in red move across the street along with a few hired goons.

"My mission is to disrupt the corrupt economic and political system that this country thrives on," explained Anarky as he stood over Question, "I'm Anarky and I've been waiting to meet you for a very long time. We'll speak later but for now I have to keep my promise. Rupert Thorne will die tonight and if I'm still in the mood then I'll kill Myra Fermin and Huntress as well."

"I'll stop you," assured Question as he grabbed for Anarky.

"Still trying to restore order to your world?" asked Anarky as he batted Question's arm aside and then tipped his hat to the faceless crime-fighter before turning his back to leave with Rupert Thorne's unconscious body as his prize.

XXXXX

Question opened his eyes, not realizing that he had blacked out. He weakly managed to get back to his feet and shook his head to stop the ringing in his ears. Question suddenly realized the ringing was the cell phone that was still in his pocket.

"Bit of an inconvenient time, Tot," said Question as he answered the phone, "Please tell me some good news."

"Batgirl managed to discover the identity of the person who disrupted the security footage in Mayor Fermin's office the night of the murder," explained Tot, "It was a hacker named 'Moneyspider'. She tracked Moneyspider's activities and discovered his hideout."

"Where is it?" asked Question.

"Ace Chemicals," replied Tot, "It's in Gotham."

"I'm on it," assured Question as he hung up the phone.

XXXXX

Huntress mumbled under her breath as she groggily opened her eyes. She was having a rather nice dream about her and Question. As she realized what was going on, Huntress decided that the dream was infinitely preferable to her current situation.

"I've been trying forever to get you to wake up," explained Myra. Huntress made a nauseated face at the smell that wafted through her nostrils. She looked down to discover that she and Myra were hanging over a boiling, bubbling vat of chemicals. She didn't exactly know what kind of chemicals were in the vat below but she knew they couldn't be good for the human body.

"I really hate it when villains do crap like this," muttered Huntress as she tried to figure out what she was going to do. She knew she had some concealed lock picks on her that she could use to get free but then there was the problem of trying not to fall into the chemical vat below.

"You've been in this before then?" asked Myra hopefully.

"Hell no," replied Huntress, "I'm usually not stupid enough to get myself captured." Huntress studied what was going on below. There were men guarding the vat and waiting around for something. Huntress figured the big boss was out for a moment and the goons were waiting for him to return before they dropped her and Myra into the chemicals.

"You think Question will rescue us?" asked Myra.

"He better rescue us if he knows what's good for him," replied Huntress, "If not then I'll come back as a ghost and haunt him for the rest of his life."


	5. Parlor Scene

Q and A (Part Five)

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

"You're a real criminal mastermind when you sneak up behind people," commented Huntress as she saw Anarky return with a couple of his goons and Rupert Thorne in tow, "I mean who in the history of villainy has ever thought of that tactic? I have to admit that you're a freakin' genius."

"He obviously doesn't love you for your charm," replied Anarky as he looked up to where Huntress and Myra Fermin were hanging from the ceiling above a vat of boiling chemicals, "Your family was very civilized. It's a shame they didn't spend their fortune on charm school."

"Oh we're going to make it personal now, are we?" asked Huntress, "You should at least tell me who you are so we can get on a level playing field."

"Amusing try," admitted Anarky as his goons began to chain up Rupert Thorne and hoist him up into the ceiling, positioning him over a second vat of chemicals next to the one under Huntress and Myra, "I'd prefer to save the theatrics until the guest of honor has arrived."

"You know, you big mystery guys are really all the same," stated Huntress, "You think you're one move ahead of everyone else around you but I can figure you guys out from step one. You're not going to kill us. You don't have the guts for it."

"Did you miss the part where I killed Mayor Fermin?" asked Anarky, "Did you miss the part where I tried to blow up Myra Fermin twice and you once? I also believe I've tried to blow up your boyfriend twice."

"Twice?" asked Myra, "I don't even remember once."

"I told him to have a talk with you at some point," muttered Huntress, "Typical behavior for Q."

"What would he talk to me about?" asked Myra.

"Now is seriously not the time for this," assured Huntress before turning her attention back to Anarky, "Oh sure, you're a big and scary guy with all your bombs and your goon squad and your big, giant 'A' that you love to make all the time. You know, the only thing I feel sorry about concerning this case is that I should've caught the 'A' thing sooner. A is for anarchy, right?"

"You're more perceptive than your significant other," said Anarky, "Although I confess that I made the motif so glaringly obvious in order to throw him off the trail. Men like the Question enjoy figuring things out but they read too much into everything, so much that they miss what's right in front of their faces."

"How would you know that?" asked Huntress.

"Because I'm one of them," explained Anarky, "I've had my eye on Question for a long time now. Until now, we've simply been working towards the same goal albeit with different methods. Now that our paths have crossed, I have to say that he's acted completely true to form. I expect him to be arriving in . . . well, now."

"I try not to disappoint," assured Question as he stepped into the light, "Let everyone go, Anarky. You seem to be an incredibly intelligent man, too intelligent for the violence that's sure to occur if you refuse my order."

"I laugh at order," stated Anarky, "I do have an interesting question for you though."

"And that would be what?" asked Question.

"Would you knowingly stand by and watch a mob boss die in order to save the two women in the world you care about the most?" asked Anarky, "You see, my men are ready to drop Mr. Thorne but if you try to stop them from doing it then I'll have them drop Myra Fermin and Huntress instead. The chemicals in those vats are high-grade acids that are easily capable of peeling flesh from bone. So which will it be, my faceless friend? Shall I drop Mr. Thorne into that vat and end his reign of terror over Gotham City or shall I drop the two beautiful women who strive so diligently to improve the world around them?"

"You want me to decide between innocent lives and the life of a criminal?" asked Question.

"I want you to answer the question that keeps you up at night," countered Anarky, "How far will you go to protect the people you care about?"

"You can't let him do this," said Thorne, now fully conscious and definitely aware of his situation, "I'll pay you any amount you want."

"He's paying you to let the people you love die instead of him," explained Anarky, "It's almost like a sick joke, isn't it? That's what people like Thorne do. They use their money to influence the way the system works while good people like those two women die in the process. Men like him turn your laws and your order into sick, disgusting jokes for their own personal amusement. Are you going to let him get away with it again?"

"That's right, boys," muttered Huntress as she managed to kick her legs up high enough so that she could reach something in her boot, "Just keep paying zero attention to the helpless damsels."

"What are you doing?" hissed Myra.

"Did you think this costume was all for show?" asked Huntress as she managed to grab something out of her boot, "This is either going to work perfectly or one of us will be missing a few fingers." Huntress tried to position the cutting laser so that it could do its work without injuring her or Myra.

"You're the one who created this situation," countered Question as he looked at Anarky, "What does that make you?" Question didn't wait for Anarky to answer. He quickly moved towards the goon standing next to the chains. The man quickly unhooked the chains and Rupert Thorne, Myra Fermin, and Huntress all began to drop like stones towards the vats of acid. Question grabbed one chain in each hand and halted their descents but it now left him completely vulnerable for an attack that Anarky and his hired thugs were glad to deliver.

"What does that make me?" asked Anarky as he zapped Question with the electrified end of his staff, "You have no clue what I am, you miserable excuse for a man. You say you want to change the world? You're too weak to do what's necessary to stop the gears from turning and the machine from chewing up innocent life after innocent life."

"You would've killed them all anyway," retorted Question as he struggled to keep his grip on the chains and keep anyone from dying while Anarky smacked him across the head with his staff.

"No, I wouldn't have," retorted Anarky, "I'm a very honest man."

"Finally," said Huntress as the cutting laser finished its work and she broke free, "Now comes the hard part." Huntress quickly grabbed onto the chain to keep herself from falling into the vat of acid that was now even closer to her than before.

"What're you going to do now?" asked Myra as Huntress let go of the chain with one hand so she could grab her crossbow.

"Get us the hell down from here for starters," replied Huntress as she wrapped her legs around Myra's waist, aiming her crossbow at the ceiling with one hand while her other hand was operating the cutting laser, "Duh." Huntress fired the arrow with a rope attached to it and made sure it sunk securely into the ceiling. The cutting laser did its work and soon Myra was free, still suspended in mid-air only by virtue of the fact that Huntress's legs were wrapped around her waist. Huntress clicked a button on her weapon and the rope began to retract, hauling the two women up into the rafters of the chemical plant and away from the acid vat.

"What about him?" asked Myra as Huntress dropped both of them onto a catwalk.

"You mean Thorne or Q?" asked Huntress in return.

"Both," replied Myra as she looked over the railing. Sensing that Huntress had taken care of things, Question had let that chain go in order to give himself a free hand. Anarky swung his staff at Question again but Vic caught the metal rod this time, turning its electrified end back on its owner and sending Anarky staggering backwards. Question took the few moments of relief to tie off the chain he still held and make sure that Rupert Thorne wouldn't be taking an impromptu bath any time in the near future.

"I believe you and I were having a discussion," said Question as he turned his full attention to Anarky, "You've endangered two people I care about, threatened the lives of innocent people in my city, and you've also gone to great lengths to annoy the hell out of me. I'd say it's time for some revenge."

"Perhaps another time," decided Anarky as he flicked a metal ball with a circle-A on it at Question. The flash bomb went off and left Question momentarily stunned, which was long enough for Anarky to run to the stairs and scurry up towards the catwalks that crisscrossed the upper part of the room. Question rubbed his eyes for a moment and then gave chase, eventually tackling Anarky just as the red-clad terrorist stepped onto the catwalk.

"He needs help," said Myra.

"Yeah, him and everyone else," assured Huntress as she saw two more thugs approaching from the other side of the catwalk, "Let me deal with these idiots first." Huntress pulled out her staff and jabbed the first thug in the knee, causing him to lose his balance and topple to the floor of the catwalk. Huntress hit the second goon in the jaw with her staff and moved to strike again but the first one grabbed her ankle and took her off her feet. Huntress smacked the man across the head with her staff and rolled backwards, landing on her feet. She turned to see that Thorne was still dangling above the vat of acid like a fat worm on the end of a fishhook.

"There are times when I really hate this job," muttered Huntress as she shot out another arrow with a rope attached to it and swung from the catwalk towards Thorne, grabbing him and taking him with her as she sailed over to the other side of the room. Huntress wrapped her legs around the railing of another catwalk to anchor them there while she began cutting through Thorne's bindings with her laser.

"You could've made this easier for me by getting me down first," said Thorne as he grabbed Huntress's hands to keep from falling.

"You could've made this easier for me by getting your fat ass on a treadmill once and a while," retorted Huntress as she hauled both herself and Thorne up onto the catwalk. Thorne had little time to catch his breath before Huntress swept his feet out from under him and quickly hog-tied him with the chain, binding his wrists and ankles together in one complete package.

"What the hell is this for?" asked Thorne.

"There's no way I'm letting you walk out of here," assured Huntress as she turned her attention back to Question and Anarky, "Just because we're saving you doesn't mean you're not a bad guy."

XXXXX

"So how long do you imagine we can keep doing this?" asked Anarky as he continued to wrestle with Question, "I mean you won't kill me and if I get thrown in jail I'll just get out."

"I'll stop you again," assured Question as he ended up on top and began repeatedly hitting Anarky in the jaw, "I'll stop you again and again and again."

"Of course you will," agreed Anarky as he threw Question off of him, "That's the way these things are supposed to go." Anarky reached into his cloak and flicked a duo of A-shaped throwing blades at Question's head. Question ducked the whirling projectiles and moved to close the distance between himself and his foe. He took a swing at Anarky but the vigilante blocked the punch with his staff, flicking the rod to smack Question in the ribs. Anarky then went even lower, pulling Question's legs out from under him.

"Who are you under that mask?" asked Question.

"A question worth asking," assured Anarky as he quickly turned and blocked an attack coming from behind. The crowbar clanged off of his staff and he saw Myra Fermin holding the weapon, attempting to look fiercer than she actually was.

"Myra, leave," ordered Question as he quickly understood what was going to happen.

"I think she'd like to know who you really are too," decided Anarky as he suddenly grabbed Myra and pressed one of his throwing blades to her throat, "Maybe if you show me yours then I'll show you mine."

"Let her go," ordered Question.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" asked Anarky as he pushed Myra against the railing of the catwalk, implying that he would push her over the side and into one of the chemical vats below.

"I got him," assured Huntress, her crossbow leveled at the back of Anarky's head, "Just say the word, Q."

"Your game is over, Anarky," stated Question, "You've made an enemy out of Rupert Thorne and his cartel. At this point, jail is your safest option."

"When faced with the choice between freedom and safety, I will always choose freedom," assured Anarky as he quickly pushed Myra over the railing. Question sprang forward and grabbed one of Myra's wrists to halt her descent. He heard the sound of Huntress discharging her crossbow and the clang that followed as Anarky batted the bolt aside with his staff. Anarky clubbed Question over the back twice with his weapon and then grabbed the faceless vigilante by the legs, flipping him over the railing as well. Question managed to hook his foot on the railing to stop from falling while Huntress fired again. Anarky dodged the attack and turned his attention to Huntress.

"Climb up me," ordered Question to Myra as he hung from the railing by his feet. Myra nodded her compliance and reached up to grab Question's hands with both of hers, beginning to climb up Question in order to reach the railing.

"This is incredibly awkward," stated Myra as she managed to finally grab the railing.

"I'm not normally inclined to let women climb over me," agreed Question as he tried to figure out how he was going to get back up considering the way he was hanging. He tried to turn over and suddenly felt his foot slip from the railing. Myra quickly grabbed his ankle but he was now even closer to the acid. Question could feel the fumes of the chemical start to affect the material in his mask. Whatever acid was in the vat was starting to actually eat through his mask. Considering his mask was like a second skin thanks to the chemicals he treated it with, Question quickly realized that he was faced with two options. He either had to get back on solid ground quickly or he had to remove his mask for fear of the acid burns causing permanent damage to his actual skin.

"I've been waiting to do this all night," assured Huntress as Anarky came at her. She blocked his staff with her own, going first high then low to mimic his movements. What she didn't mimic was the punch to the face that she delivered to Anarky. Anarky stumbled backwards and it allowed Huntress the space she needed to hit him with a spinning roundhouse kick to his jaw that dropped him to the floor.

"I need some help," said Myra as she tried to pull Question up, "Huntress!"

"Hurry!" shouted Question as he reached into his coat pocket for the aerosol can he used to help remove his mask. He had to get it off quickly before the acid finished making a meal out of it and then used his real skin as dessert. Question quickly bent to get his head away from the acid and sprayed the front of his head with the aerosol. After that, it was a simple matter of peeling his mask off and letting it fall into the vat. He felt someone grab his other leg as Huntress and Myra both pulled him back to stable ground.

"Q, your mask," said Huntress as she noticed Question put his hand up to cover his face.

"I know," replied Question curtly as he tried to hide his true identity, "The acid damaged it too much." Huntress looked at Myra Fermin as the former news reporter began to piece everything together.

"Is that you in there, Vic?" asked Myra as she noticed that Question's hair color had changed when he had taken off his mask, "It's you isn't it, Vic?"

"Yes," admitted Question as he wearily dropped his hand away from his face. He looked past Myra to Anarky and suddenly felt a rage well up inside of him. All this time, he had kept his anonymity so closely guarded and now it was greatly compromised.

"Q, what're you . . .?" began Huntress as she noticed Question push past Myra and lift up Anarky's unconscious body.

"Wake up!" ordered Question as he shook Anarky, "Wake up and face me!" No other foe had tested Victor Sage like Anarky had. No other foe had threatened his loved ones like Anarky had or challenged everything he believed in as Anarky had done. Victor Sage wanted to know the face behind the gold mask that his adversary wore. If he had to be dragged kicking and screaming into the light then Vic wasn't going to go alone.

"You're wearing your mask," mumbled Anarky and Question could swear the man was smiling. Question reached forward and grabbed Anarky's mask, ripping it away. The grinning face of a teenage boy stared back at him, a boy who couldn't be more than sixteen at the most.

"You're just a kid," said Question in dismay.

"We are more than the masks we wear," assured Anarky, "Is this the part where you push me off the railing now?"

"No," assured Question as he threw Anarky away from the railing, "This is the part where you go to jail."


	6. Punctuation

Q and A (Part Six)

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Sadly this is the end. I hope it's been as fun for you as it was for me.

"Tot will have to make me a new mask," muttered Question to himself as he and Huntress stood in the shadows while Gordon and the GCPD took Anarky away and began cleaning up the mess they had created, "Whatever was in that vat was strong. I didn't think anything could burn through the psuedoderm."

"That another of those words in the dictionary you know that I don't?" inquired Huntress.

"No, that one's completely made up," assured Question as he rubbed his face, "I feel naked without it."

"I noticed," said Huntress with a small grin, "It's not so bad though being human, is it?"

"Don't joke about this, Helena," warned Question as he glared at his girlfriend. Huntress found it slightly unnerving that this time she could actually see his eyes and the simmering anger they held inside them.

"Vic?" Question turned his attention Myra Fermin, who had managed to extricate herself from the chaos around her in order to have a few moments alone with him. Huntress knew that was her cue to quietly fade into the background while the two of them talked.

"This isn't really the time or the place" explained Question after a moment of hesitation.

"How long have you been doing this?" asked Myra.

"A long time," replied Question, "Longer than I've known you since that's what you really wanted to know about."

"You couldn't tell me about this at some point?" questioned Myra in a slightly angry tone. She once again remembered why her relationship with Victor Sage didn't work out. Loving him involved putting up with too many secrets and too many unanswered questions. Myra Fermin knew she could never live her life that way.

"You and I are both keenly aware of the inherent dangers of this world," reminded Question, "I didn't want to compromise my identity and I wanted to keep you safe. As the Question, I can do what Vic Sage can't and what I do as the Question isn't very nice or pretty."

"You could clean up Hub City without having to wear a mask" countered Myra, the frustration evident in her voice, "Why still do it this way?"

"People need the truth," explained Question, "People need the ugly, brutal truth that hurts their feelings and makes them take action. On a more personal note, maybe I do it to find out who I really am because sometimes, Myra, I have no clue."

"What makes you different from him?" asked Myra as she gestured to Anarky.

"Sometimes I ask myself the same question," assured Question, "I need to go, Myra. We'll talk again later."

XXXXX

"I believe I have you at a disadvantage," said Anarky as he saw Question enter the interrogation room, "I'm the one wearing the mask this time."

"You're not wearing a mask," corrected Question as he sat down, absently touching his newly acquired mask. Tot had kept spares at his home and it took a few simple requests to Mr. Terrific in order to teleport back to Hub City and pick one of them up.

"You think this isn't a mask?" asked Anarky as he gestured to his actual face, "I thought you were smarter than that."

"Fair enough," admitted Question, "I have questions and you have answers. Some of the questions are the ones the GCPD want answered and some of them are for the satisfaction of my own personal curiosity."

"You know a curiosity as large as yours can never be satisfied," assured Anarky, "Fine then, my faceless friend. I'll play this game with you."

"You could've killed Rupert Thorne at any point in this whole fiasco," stated Question, "You were operating completely in secret until you killed Mayor Fermin and put me on your trail. I don't believe that was your ultimate goal."

"In part it was," admitted Anarky.

"What other motives did you have?" inquired Question.

"Killing Thorne was my original motive and I still intend to do that," explained Anarky, "I followed him to Hub City and decided that Mayor Fermin also needed removing. Plus, as I said earlier, I've watched you for a very long time and I wanted to finally meet you."

"You continually warned me about your bombs," reminded Question, "Most people would simply write it off as the narcissism usually associated with people of your kind but I don't buy that. You never wanted Myra Fermin dead, did you?"

"What else would have been my goal concerning her?" countered Anarky in return.

"A question I don't have an answer for," admitted Question, "Would you care to enlighten me?"

"I don't have any love for politics but I think she's one of the few politicians I could respect," stated Anarky, "Should she ultimately decide to run, I'd like to see her become Hub City's next mayor."

"You continually threatened her life in order to get her elected?" asked Question skeptically.

"I could've killed her at any time," reminded Anarky, "People will be more sympathetic towards her now that she's been through this ordeal. People will be more inclined to listen to what she has to say. She'll run, she'll get elected, and she'll clean up Hub City, something that does fall into line with my ultimate goal. When the time is right, I'll eliminate her if I need to but until that time comes I don't have any plans concerning her."

"Another smokescreen?" asked Question.

"Perhaps," replied Anarky, "You of all people should be aware of the masks we use in our everyday lives to conceal our true motives and intentions. People are so apathetic these days that true change can only be achieved through dramatic and spectacular examples. They may paint me as a villain or a lunatic and lock me away but eventually the revolution will come. We all have our parts to play."

"One last question," said Question, "The times you called me on the phone. How could you be sure of my position? You're smart but you're not psychic."

"I do have a genius-level IQ," assured Anarky, "I've read up on some of your more interesting theories, Question. You're right about the government having spy satellites. I assume they were implemented as some sort of contingency plan against the Justice League and, even though that project was ultimately scrapped, they still hover over our heads with cloaking technology so sophisticated I doubt even your friends are aware of them."

"You hacked into them then?" assumed Question.

"Genius-level IQ," reminded Anarky, "I believe I have a competency hearing in a few minutes. I expect it will be very tedious and boring."

"We're through here," stated Question as he turned and walked towards the door, "A shame that we find ourselves on opposite sides of the bars, Anarky. In another life, we could've been friends."

"Doubtful," disagreed Anarky, "'A' is 'A' after all and 'Q' is 'Q'. Things are what they are."

"Unfortunately," agreed Question as he departed.

XXXXX

"Isn't there something in the Justice League rulebook about personal use of the teleportation equipment?" asked Huntress, a smirk playing across her lips as she leaned against the wall of a building and looked at Question.

"Can't help it," replied Question, "It's the safest way to get Myra and I back into Hub City. Anarky could have some sort of contingency plan waiting for us if we decide to use regular transportation, commercial or otherwise."

"He really got you spooked," said Huntress.

"He did no such thing," corrected Question, "I'm merely guaranteeing our safety."

"There's no law that says you have to go back," reminded Huntress, "This town could use an extra pair of hands on the night shift, Q. I could think of a few other things that could need a good pair of hands in case you need something to keep you busy."

"You know I can't stay here, Helena," replied Question, "Your city needs you and my city still needs me. Maybe when I'm satisfied that the progress I've made in Hub City is lasting then I'll reconsider."

"You know I'm terrible at waiting," said Huntress.

"You'll survive," assured Question, "I've spoken to Batman about getting you a new base of operations. He has his reservations but I'm sure you two can work something out."

"Maybe I'll just move down to Hub then," suggested Huntress.

"You wouldn't last five minutes there," decided Question, "That city eats people alive."

"So why do you stay then?" asked Huntress.

"That is the Question," answered Question as he kissed her goodbye and then walked away from the woman he loved.

"Things are going to change when we get back there, Vic," promised Myra, "A lot of things."

"Not the thing you're thinking about," corrected Question, "There can never be anything more between us Myra. We live in different worlds and I'm already taken."

"That's another reason why we never worked out," admitted Myra, "Not everything revolves around you, Vic."

"Tell that to the lunatics," suggested Question as he tapped his com-link, "Watchtower, transport to Hub City for two." Myra and Question faded out of existence before reappearing on the streets of Hub City.

"I'll catch you on the news," promised Myra.

"I'll be waiting to see your name on the ballot sheet," assured Question as he tipped his hat to the woman he once loved and then quietly faded away into the alleys of Hub City. Myra Fermin watched him leave and wondered if she had ever really loved Vic Sage or if the man she had loved was just a ghost. She filed away those questions in her mind and decided that when the time was right she'd get the answers to them.


End file.
